


With Friends Like These...

by TheRudeTasteofSane



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, written prior to the s3 trailers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-13 21:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17496035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRudeTasteofSane/pseuds/TheRudeTasteofSane
Summary: Steve comes back to Hawkins for his 10 year high school reunion. It's not the warm, happy return everyone expects.





	With Friends Like These...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that Nancy, Jonathan, and Billy are actually not in the same grade as Steve, but for the sake of the story just pretend they are lol.
> 
> Unbeta'd, so if you find any grammar mistakes just ignore them.
> 
> Warning for derogatory language.

It was all just peachy fucking keen, wasn’t it?

 

Steve, back in Hawkins for the 10 year reunion (“Steve, you _can’t_  just not come. Everybody will expect you to be here!”), was sitting in the parking lot of the newly built mall, in the same car he had in high school, when of all people _Billy fucking Hargrove_ walked up and leaned down to talk to him.

 

“If it ain’t King Steve, back to claim his title just in time for the reunion,” Billy laughed, and almost managed to not sound mean. Steve, a cigarette hanging from his lips, said nothing. Despite it being an unseasonably warm day and having no a/c in his car, Steve rolled his window up and flipped Billy a bird, effectively ending the conversation before it could even begin.

 

He was no longer the Steve people remembered.

 

Chicago had seen to that.

 

\--

 

Of course it wound up being Nancy that softened him back up.

 

He had never been able to shake his feelings for her, the one girl who’d had a good enough head on her shoulders to see past all his macho bullshit. To the ‘good guy’ she knew was underneath.

 

Around her, he felt like he could be that guy again, the knight in shining armor. Standing tall and proud, if not shaking in his boots, against the Mindflayer and all his demogorgon and demodog minions.  

 

But Nancy had her own knight now. Jonathan worked as an art teacher in the next town over, a far cry from the weirdo who took pictures of unknowing subjects. He and Nancy had a 5 year old they named after Will, and a dog they said reminded them of Hopper.

 

Nancy had no room left in her life for a washed up twenty nine year old semi-alcoholic.

 

So Steve made his way to the only place that had to take you in when you’ve got nowhere else to go.

 

Home.

 

\--

 

His father sneered with disgust behind his napkin, and Steve had a hard time standing the tense silence of the house. He gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands, strangely feeling like a caged animal.

 

Steve imagined himself storming off, standing up to his father in a way he’d never been able to. But in reality, he sat at the dinner table and ate every bite of the medium rare steak that made him want to throw up.

 

After dinner, his father retired to the study to finish paperwork he’d brought home from the office while Steve headed up to his old room.

 

He wasn’t sure what he’d find when he opened up the door, but it certainly wasn’t the same room he’d left behind when he went to Chicago. The work of his mother, no doubt. His father probably would’ve made it into a workout room, or a storage room to hold his ever growing stockpile of law books if he’d had it his way.

 

He laid on the bed, stuck in his own thoughts.

 

Chicago had certainly showed him some of the uglier aspects of life, separate from the toxic, dreary Upside Down. The city had scared him in a way he hadn’t thought he could be scared anymore, not after the events that he’d been through in Hawkins.

 

But fighting for survival against other humans was, as he’d found out, a whole different ball game.

 

Sipping whiskey from a bottle, Steve mused that this was never how he’d pictured his life going.

 

\--

 

The next day, at Nancy’s insistence, Steve showed up for a little get together at the Byers’ house. Everyone was there, and wow. He couldn’t stop looking at the kids. Except none of them were kids anymore.

 

Max had grown into a beautiful young woman, and so had Eleven (or Jane, as she was known now). Will and Mike seemed to be discussing the latest The Legend of Zelda release. Lucas was in a suit, laughing and talking to Jonathan about something in the paper. And Dustin, who looked completely different than the last time Steve had seen him.

 

He and Dustin had shared an apartment for a while when Dustin decided to study psychology at the University of Chicago, but that had been years ago. After a.. miscommunication with Dustin, Steve figured it would be better to keep to himself.

 

Conversation slowly died off as everyone saw Steve standing there, and he cleared his throat to ease the sudden nervousness he felt. He smiled crookedly.

 

“What’s up, guys?” The smile died quickly when everyone gave him grim looks, and his heart started hammering. He laughed shakily, desperately pretending that he didn’t feel like an animal on display at the zoo. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Max cracked first. She walked up to him and punched him in the chest with no small amount of force. Steve blinked, and rubbed his chest.

 

“You might as well be. Showing up here after ten years of no contact, like it's nothing. Jesus Steve, we were _all_  worried about you. Especially after Dustin told us about the fight at your apartment, before you moved out. Which totally bummed him out, by the way, in case you needed that healthy dose of guilt today,” she blurted, cheeks heated with anger.

 

Steve offered no words in his defense, between feeling like he deserved it and struggling to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t alarm them more. He sighed.

 

“I was just.. caught up in my life,” he said lamely. “You know, busy with my business and all that.”

 

Max let out a huff.

 

“I swear, you and Billy are literally like the same person now. Which is just fucking _wrong_ , you know? I never thought I’d see the day,” she berated.

 

“Max!” Nancy chastised, but the damage had already been done. Steve was heading for the door, smiling painfully and offering what everybody knew was excuses to leave.

 

Mercifully, no one called out to him as he practically fled out the front door.

 

\--

 

Several hours later, Steve was well on his way to being blackout drunk. Not for the first time, but it was the first time in months.

 

He’d been doing so much better since being hired as a funeral director. But after seeing everyone’s shocked faces…

 

Steve drained the rest of the beer in his can and threw it into the quarry. He kicked his legs against the cliff, feeling small and insignificant as he stared down at the water. He popped the top on another can and sipped from it, checking the box to see how many were left.

 

“Damn, and here I thought King Steve had forgone his kegger days,” Steve closed his eyes, praying that the alcohol had tricked him into hearing Billy’s voice. “But, you know… It’s no fun to party alone.”

 

No such luck.

 

Steve opened his eyes at the sound of Billy sitting down next to him on the cliff, frowning as Billy helped himself to one of the remaining beers.

 

“I don’t recall inviting you to join me,” he said flatly. Billy smirked.

 

“Did I fuckin’ ask?” he downed his beer, crushing the can and throwing it out into the water. “Didn’t think so, Princess.”

 

Steve sighed, feeling entirely too tired to keep up the charade.

 

“Whatever,” he muttered, taking another sip from his can. He said nothing else, returning to his thoughts.

 

Quite to Steve’s surprise, Billy had no smart remark. The other man simply settled back and drained another beer, keeping his mouth shut. After several seconds of awkward silence, Steve decided he was too drunk to care why Billy had taken a sudden interest in palling around with him.

 

He resumed his pity party to the best of his ability, but realized the mood had been ruined by the appearance of his high school rival. The very person Max had accused him of being like.

 

He stood up, wobbling a little as the alcohol affected his balance. He dusted himself off and started walking back to his car, waving to Billy as he went.

 

He couldn’t help a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. He was _actually_  waving. At Billy fucking Hargrove. Like they were friends.

 

Like Billy hadn’t broken nine bones in Steve’s face that night at the Byers’ house.

 

Wonders never cease.

 

“Hey!” Steve heard Billy jogging to catch up. “We were having some quality bonding time back there, Harrington, what’s the rush?”

 

Steve faced Billy with an angry glare.

 

“I’m going home,” he announced with finality. “I wasn’t really looking for company when I came out here, especially yours.”

 

Billy held a hand to his chest.

 

“Ouch, Steve, that hurt. I thought we were buds,” Billy mocked, and Steve could feel the familiar anger rising to the surface. He didn’t know what it was about Billy, but the guy knew how to push all of his buttons.

 

“Fuck off, Billy,” he hissed through gritted teeth. He turned and started walking away.

 

“So.. you don’t want the rest of the beers, then?” Billy needled, and Steve snapped at the hint of laughter in his tone.

 

“Hope you choke on them, asshole,” he yelled, and fled the sound of Billy’s open amusement.

 

\--

 

Steve woke abruptly at the feel of a foot prodding him in the stomach.

 

He reacted immediately, grabbing the person’s ankle with all the strength his drunk mind possessed, and yanking forward.

 

He had his fist balled up ready to start whaling when Dustin’s calm, soothing lisp finally reached his ears.

 

He looked over to where Dustin was splayed out on the concrete, realizing shamefully that he’d passed out in his driveway.  His father, naturally, was gone, and his own car was nowhere to be seen.

 

He pulled himself to his knees with a groan, going through the tedious process of waking up drunk.

 

The last thing he remembered was leaving the local package store with a cheap bottle of vodka, not caring what brand as long as it got him drunk enough to forget.

 

The flashes of his run-in with Billy at the quarry sobered Steve a bit, and he offered Dustin a hand up.

 

“Wow, I can definitely tell you work out,” Dustin joked, and Steve scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment.

 

“I’m really sorry about that, Dustin. I wasn’t thinking,” Steve apologized, and Dustin held his hands up.

 

“No apology necessary. I just.. Saw you in your driveway. Thought I’d see if maybe you needed some help,” if Dustin stressed that last part, Steve pretended not to hear it.

 

“Nah, I’ve got a handle on it. Thanks for checking, though,” Steve offered him a tight smile, and Dustin hesitantly smiled back.

 

“Seriously, Steve, if you need help--,” “I’m fine,” Steve cut him off, his smile gaining a hard edge. “I’ve got everything under control, Dustin. Really. Thanks for stopping by.”

 

Dustin nodded with a resigned sigh.

 

“I get it. I’ll see you around,” he waved a little, and headed back towards his car at the end of the driveway. Once he was gone, Steve turned and headed inside.

 

He’d been able to smell himself the entire time he talked to Dustin, and couldn’t wait to hop in the shower.

 

It was almost soothing, to fall back into such familiar habits.

 

\--

 

All the meetings, the hours spent behind the podium sharing the scariest instances of his life (edited, of course, because the last thing he needed was to be considered crazy).

 

All that effort… Wasted.

 

Coming back had been a mistake, he realized in the shower.

 

His life in Chicago was far from perfect, but after all the things he’d survived here in Hawkins… Well, it seemed alright. Quiet, out of the way. _Normal_.

 

Part of him wanted to resent Nancy for dragging him back to a place he didn’t have the best memories of. Wanted to be angry that she still had that effect on him, even after all these years.

 

While he was toweling his hair dry, his doorbell rang.

 

He padded downstairs, wondering idly who could be at his house. When he opened the front door, Billy’s grinning face met his own neutral expression.

 

“Morning sunshine,” he mocked, handing Steve a set of keys. “That’ll be $80, by the way.” Steve just stared at him, uncomprehending, and Billy rolled his eyes. “I’m the fuckin’ tow truck driver around town. Hopper got a call about an abandoned vehicle at the bar, so I went to pick it up.”

 

Steve nodded in understanding, and grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket. He handed over the cash, and waited while Billy wrote him a receipt. Once he had it in hand, he shut the door in Billy’s face. He smiled a little at the sound of Billy huffing on the other side of the door.

 

“You know, a fuckin’ thank you would’ve been nice, asshole!” Billy yelled. “Considering I’m _supposed_  to take abandoned vehicles to the impound lot.” When it became clear Steve wasn’t going to open the door again, Billy walked away, muttering loudly about next time.  

 

Steve slid down the door until he was sitting on the floor, his head in his hands. He could feel it, how the longer he was in this town, the worse he’d get. The heavier he’d start to drink. Already he could feel the need to numb himself. The urge to grab a beer from the fridge.

 

He looked at the calendar on the wall next to him. Two more days until the reunion. Two more days until he could run back to the safety of his new life.

 

If only he had the power to travel to the future.

 

\--

 

Later that same afternoon, he felt better enough that he headed into town to catch a movie. It seemed kind of pathetic to catch a movie alone, but he was sure everyone else was busy and he couldn’t stand another minute in that big empty house by himself with nothing to do.

 

He was staring up at the posters outside, trying to decide what to watch when somebody clapped a hand down on his shoulder. He closed his eyes with a sigh, already able to guess who.

 

“You’re like a virus, you know that? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re stalking me,” Steve narrowed his eyes suspiciously, and Billy gave him a nonplussed look.

 

“No offense, Harrington, but I could do better than you any day of the week,” Billy took a pack of Marlboros out of his back pocket. He offered the pack to Steve, who grudgingly accepted one. They were silent after lighting their cigarettes, both of them staring at the row of posters on the wall.

 

“I don’t see anything catching my eye,” Billy turned to Steve. “I say we blow this joint and go somewhere more interesting.” Steve shrugged.

 

“Anywhere is better than home,” he muttered. Billy laughed.

 

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” he was smirking, but when Steve glanced over at him, Billy’s eyes were ice cold and full of hatred.

 

\--

 

Curiously, Billy’s idea of somewhere more interesting was the old arcade Max and the gang used to frequent. Steve raised his eyebrows, and Billy shrugged.

 

“Since Max was here all the time anyway, I figured I might as well see what the big deal was about. It didn’t take long for me to get hooked on Commando,” Billy stopped in front of the machine and fed it a couple of quarters.

 

Steve looked around while Billy played Commando, his eyes falling on a new racing game. He walked over, looking at the machine.

 

He felt so awkward being pretty much a grown man, playing a video game. Arcades were for kids, or so his father had always said. Steve’s fist tightened at the thought of his father, and he sat in the driver’s seat.

 

A couple of quarters later, Steve was glued to it.

 

It seemed like no time at all had passed before Billy was tapping him on the shoulder.

 

“Hey, I got a call about somebody stranded out near the interstate. You wanna come along?” Steve weighed his options.

 

Watch a movie at the theater by himself like a loser, or.. Continue to hang out with Billy Hargrove.

 

Honestly, the choice made itself.

 

“I guess,” he agreed reticently. “Not like I have anything planned for the rest of the day or anything.” Billy pushed past Steve, rolling his eyes.

 

“I’m so glad King Steve could clear his schedule to spend time with me,” Billy sneered.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” Steve rebutted. Billy sighed.

 

“Whatever. Just get in the truck,” he gestured to the passenger seat, and Steve couldn’t resist the opportunity to needle at Billy.

 

“You’re not gonna open the door for me? And here I thought I was a princess,” he mocked, and Billy let out a chuckle. He came back around the truck, getting entirely too close to Steve for comfort. Billy lingered there, in Steve’s personal space, for a beat longer than necessary.

 

“Anything for you, Princess,” Billy whispered breathily and pulled open the door, his eyes meeting Steve’s for a long second before his face split into a devious smirk.

 

Steve climbed up into the passenger seat with an annoyed frown on his face, not responding to the attempt at riling him up. Inwardly, however, he was more bothered by the display than he cared to admit.

 

The ride to pick up Billy’s customer was, naturally, as silent as the grave.

 

\--

 

After they were done dropping off Billy’s customer at the local motel, he drove Steve back to the theater to his own car.

 

Steve hopped out of the truck, ready to let Billy drive off when an impulse overtook him.

 

“Wanna come over to my place after you get off work?” Billy laughed a little.

 

“I’m never off work, Harrington. But sure. I’ll stop by,” he agreed, and Steve nodded.

 

“I’ll.. see you later then, I guess,” he trailed off awkwardly, shutting the door of the truck.

 

Figuring that his father wouldn’t have something so low-class as beer in the fridge, Steve drove to the local package store for a 12 pack.

 

He was in the process of leaving with his chosen alcohol when Jonathan came in the door. Both of them stared at each other like a deer in headlights.

 

“Having a party at your house, for old time’s sake?” Jonathan joked, and instantly Steve’s mood soured.

 

“Yeah. Anniversary of Barb’s death and all,” he returned scathingly, and Jonathan’s smile slid off his face.

 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Steve,” he sighed. “I have a lot going on at home with Nancy. I wasn’t thinking.” Steve shrugged.

 

“It’s cool,” he brushed it off, praying that Jonathan wouldn’t drag him somewhere to complain about how it was being married to Nancy.

 

“It’s just..,” Steve closed his eyes, sending a mental image of his middle finger to God.

 

“Why don’t we go somewhere to talk?” Steve suggested, and Jonathan nodded.

 

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” he agreed.

 

\--

 

“See, Nancy wants another baby. But I can barely support us as it is, and babies are expensive,” Jonathan ranted, clearly frustrated. Steve took a sip of his beer, and looked around at the patrons of the bar they were in.

 

Several of them were people he’d see at the reunion, but the way they were obviously not looking in his direction spoke to how he could expect to be treated there. Not that he cared one way or the other, since none of them had really been his friends.

 

Honestly, all he wanted was for this trip to be over.

 

“Steve, are you okay?” when he looked back at Jonathan, the other man was wearing a concerned expression. He shook his head.

 

“Sorry, just.. Thinking about the reunion in a couple of days,” he gestured towards the table he’d seen Tommy and Carol sitting at. “Considering the fact that nobody’s looking at me, I don’t think I’ll be taking home the title this year.” Jonathan rolled his eyes.

 

“Fuck them,” he replied dismissively. “They’re literally Hawkins’ version of trailer trash.” Steve snorted into his beer, and Jonathan chuckled. “Seriously, it’s true. I guess it’s kind of sweet in a way. They’ve been together since high school.”

 

“You and Nancy have too. Buuut you guys definitely aren’t trailer trash,” Steve pointed out, and Jonathan sighed. “As for the baby thing… You should tell her. You know Nancy is reasonable. She would take your feelings into account too.” Jonathan sat back against the chair he was in.

 

“I know. I just.. I never wanted to struggle like my mom did when she had me and Will. She loved us, but she worked _so_  much… I don’t want to be that kind of parent to my kids,” Jonathan confessed. Steve clapped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, squeezing with reassurance.

 

“Then tell her,” he urged. Jonathan started nodding unconsciously.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed, getting up and throwing some cash on the table to cover his beer. “Thanks for the drink, and the talk. I feel like I’m in a better headspace now, and better able to put it into words.” Inwardly raging that Jonathan had anything to complain about in the first place, Steve smiled.

 

“Any time,” he offered, and watched Jonathan go with relief.

 

\--

 

When Steve came home, it was a shock to see his mother coming out of the living room. She gave him a delighted smile, coming up to him and entrapping him in a tight motherly hug.

 

“I didn’t know you were in town,” she said, stepping back to get a good look at him. “I’m only back for the next couple of days, myself. They’re sending me to New Mexico this time.”

 

Steve gave a weak smile to his mother, tuning her out once she started in about her job. As much as he loved her, his mother could prattle on about the wonders of medicine.

 

Just as she opened her mouth to say something, however, the doorbell rang. Her eyebrows lifted, and she mumbled to herself wondering who it could be. Steve broke away from her grasp, heading for the door.

 

“S-sorry, Mom, I.. I invited a friend of mine over,” he admitted sheepishly. “That’s probably him, if you don’t mind…?” she flapped her hands at him.

 

“Then why are you still talking to me? Go on, shoo. Hang out with your friend while you’re here,” she gave him one last endearing smile before she headed back into the living room to finish whatever movie she was watching.

 

When Steve opened the door, he felt his mouth go dry.

 

He had never experienced attraction to his own gender beyond seeing another guy’s dick and wishing his was that big, or seeing a football player’s muscles and dreaming he had them.

 

But the way Billy looked, standing there on his doorstep, Steve felt his dick twitch with genuine interest. He gestured Billy inside, and shut the door. He led the way upstairs, explaining about his mom being home when Billy asked.

 

“I thought maybe you just wanted to show me your bedroom Harrington,” Billy teased, wearing a wicked grin. Steve scoffed, a smile creeping at the edges of his mouth.

 

“You wish, Hargrove,” Billy laughed, and Steve noticed with dismay that he _liked_  that sound.

 

Drunk. He was definitely drunk. Because there was _no_ _fucking_ _way_  he was developing an attraction to Billy Hargrove, of all people.

 

He opened the door of his bedroom, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable comment Billy would make.

 

But strangely, it never came. Once Steve closed the bedroom door, Billy just looked around. His head snapped towards Steve when he heard the sound of a can opening, and came to stand next to Steve.

 

“Honestly.. I thought your room would be cooler,” Billy took a sip from his beer, lips quirking in an ill-concealed smirk. Steve smiled wryly.

 

“Well, it’s definitely not my style anymore. My mom didn’t change one thing about it,” he shrugged. He stared at the picture of a red Corvette above his desk.

 

“You know, I have a thing about fast cars myself,” Billy remarked, his expression the picture of innocence. Steve laughed, unable to deny the urge.

 

“You don’t say,” he replied sarcastically, glancing at the beautiful blue Camaro sitting next to his own Benz in the driveway. Wistfully, he recalled the sheer terror he felt that night when he opened his eyes to the sight of a 13 year old girl driving.

 

Ahh, the warm glow of memories.

 

“It’s a lifestyle, bro. Sure as hell ain’t for everyone, but it suits me fine,” Billy shrugged, and Steve returned to the conversation.

 

“I know the feeling,” he sat on the edge of his bed, hands gripping the sheets tightly. “So maybe I’m not some big shot lawyer, o-or a doctor or whatever. I worked so fucking hard for what I’ve got in Chicago. Who are they to judge?” he froze when the last question slipped out, unbidden. Billy turned to look at him, eyes full of knowing.

 

“You gotta do what’s best for _you_ , Steve. Look out for yourself. Because believe me, nobody else is gonna. Look, I’m clearly not the go-to guy for pep talks, but honestly _fuck_  everybody who doesn’t get it--,” Steve stood up, using Billy’s distraction to get close enough to smash their lips together.

 

“Shut the fuck up, Billy,” Steve panted in his ear. Billy gripped Steve’s hips hard, fingers digging into the skin. He refused to meet Steve’s eyes, but he hadn’t pushed Steve away yet. Tentatively, Steve ran his fingers over the obvious bulge in Billy’s jeans. Billy let out a low moan.

 

“I’m not a faggot,” the denial sounded weak, and something in Billy’s voice caused Steve to pull away. He frowned at the change in Billy’s disposition, suddenly small and meek.

 

“It’s okay if you are,” Steve replied cautiously, not wanting to rock the boat. Billy’s hunched shoulders drained of tension slowly. He faced Steve with bone-deep exhaustion in his eyes. Steve smirked. “I’m not the guy for pep talks either, but honestly fuck everybody who doesn’t get it--,” Billy cut him off with a kiss, and Steve had the startling realization that Billy might be the only person who really understood the man he’d become.

 

\--

 

The next morning, of course, Steve woke up and Billy was gone. He’d expected it, but that didn’t lessen the sting of rejection.

 

He knew how things would play out. After all, he’d had plenty of one night stands he regretted in the morning.

 

Steve had no doubt the random run-ins with Billy were over. In fact, Steve wouldn’t be surprised if last night was the last time he saw Billy before he went back to Chicago. He fought against the stab of dismay and sighed.

 

He shuffled downstairs to the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen. Once he was there, he beelined for the pot of coffee and helped himself.

 

His mother sat a plate of pancakes down in front of him, and smiled.

 

“Your friend sure seemed in a hurry when he left earlier. Mumbling something about being late to work,” Steve nodded.

 

“Yeah, he’s the tow truck driver around these parts. I used to go to school with him,” he picked up a bite of pancakes and sent his mother an enthusiastic thumbs up while his mouth was full.

 

“He’s... very charming,” Steve choked at the sultry tone of his mother’s voice, desperately trying not to picture the scenario that had caused that kind of impression.

 

Steve spent the rest of his morning in the living room, staring at the TV while his mind wandered.

 

Nearing lunchtime, there was a knock on the door.

 

He pasted on a smile, mentally preparing himself for a Jehovah’s Witness or Mormon recruiter. When he opened the door, however, he found Nancy instead.

 

Numbly, he gestured her inside and led her to the living room. He switched off the TV and they sat in awkward silence, neither of them willing to break it first. Finally, Steve couldn’t stand it anymore.

 

“S-so what brings you to my humble abode today?” he cleared his throat, and Nancy shifted in her seat.

 

“I saw Billy leaving earlier. I was on my way to take Will to school,” she admitted, and Steve leaned forward on his knees, clasping his hands together. “I just…,” Nancy trailed off and Steve scoffed.

 

“Wanted to make sure everything’s okay. Isn’t that right?” he looked over at her and saw true concern for him. He nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Me and Billy get along great now, actually. He came over last night for a few drinks and stayed when he realized he couldn’t drive home.”

 

The lie rolled so smoothly off his tongue. The truth was, he and Billy had been circling each other since he came back. Even if he hadn’t consciously picked up on the signals Billy had been sending him, the unconscious part of his brain certainly had.

 

Nancy looked at him, an uncertain frown marring her features.

 

“Steve.. Please don’t think I’m trying to be a busybody when I ask, but… What happened to you in Chicago?” Steve stilled his fidgeting, unsure of how to answer her. He was silent for several minutes. “Steve?” He settled back into his seat, resigned to telling the truth. He _couldn’t_  lie to her. Not about this.

 

“I.. It’s a long story,” he sighed. “Well, maybe not that long. But it’s hard to repeat. I’m only gonna say it once, and for the love of God. _Do not_  tell the rest of them. What I’m about to tell you, it’s for you _only_. So help me, Nance.. If I find out you told them, I will never speak to you again.” He rolled his shoulders, letting out a shaky breath.

 

“Once I moved to Chicago, I started college as an undeclared major. Wanted to see what caught my interest before I spent the rest of my life doing one thing, you know? Well, it was probably my fifth day on campus when I got invited to this party. And, uh.. To make a long story short, the party was a front. For a trafficking ring in the city,” Steve wrapped his arms around himself, hating how the story forced him to relive all the helplessness and vulnerability he’d felt. “You can imagine the rest, I’m sure.”

 

When Nancy didn’t say anything, Steve looked over at her on the couch. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, and she had a hand clasped over her mouth.

 

“After the whole Upside Down thing that happened here… You survived _that_  in the city?” feeling uncomfortable now that he’d shared such a personal story, he shrugged.

 

“I fought so hard, at first. Eventually, though.. Everybody breaks,” his voice took on a harder, angry tone. “When I managed to escape, I led the police straight to that fucking snake den. They were gone, but they’d obviously left in a hurry. It was a sloppy clean-up job. I did everything I could to ensure they were put in jail.”  

 

Steve flinched when he felt Nancy hugging him, having not even realized that she got up.

 

“So that’s it, then?” Nancy questioned and Steve bit his lip.

 

“Not entirely. I developed a couple of habits during my time there. They were hard to break, but I managed it. Until I came back, anyway…,” he muttered the last part, hoping Nancy hadn’t heard. Thankfully, if she did hear it she didn’t say anything.

 

“I’m glad you told me,” Nancy’s voice had an irritatingly condescending tone, and Steve tensed.

 

“You’re my best friend, Nancy. That never changed,” he admitted, and Nancy pulled back to give him a gentle smile.

 

“So.. you went back to school, right? I will kick your ass if you say no,” she threatened and Steve laughed, nodding.

 

“Yes, I went back to school. I have a degree in funerary science, if you must know. I work at a funeral home in the suburbs now,” Nancy wrinkled her nose distastefully, while Steve struggled to contain his laughter.

 

“It doesn’t weird you out to be around dead bodies all day?” Steve looked at Nancy with an eyebrow raised.

 

“After everything that went down here.. You’re asking me if dead bodies bother me?” Nancy held her hands up in her defense, and Steve shook his head.

 

“Okay, I get the point,” she chuckled, and they both trailed off into a comfortable silence. Steve had just started zoning out when Nancy spoke up again. “So… you and Billy are friends now?” He made a noise of unsurety.

 

“Not entirely. It’s more like.. We get along. Without even knowing what happened, it’s like he understands. Believe me, you’re not as weirded out by that as I am. Still, Max wasn’t wrong when she said I’m like Billy now. Maybe she could’ve phrased it a bit nicer, but hey. A spade’s a spade,” Steve shrugged. Nancy nodded.

 

“Max is definitely a hothead,” she agreed, and laughed a little. She glanced at her watch, and Steve knew their time together had ended. He stood up when she did, and smiled at her.

 

“Thanks for listening, and not treating me any differently now that you know,” he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You’ll always be my best friend, Nancy.”

 

“This time around, you better fucking call,” she threatened, and Steve held up his hands in surrender.

 

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, and Nancy softened, looking at him with smile.

 

“I’ll see you at the reunion,” Steve nodded his agreement, and walked Nancy to the door.

 

When he looked out, he could’ve sworn he saw Billy’s tow truck turn the corner down the street, but when he actually looked, there was nobody there.

 

\--

 

The day of the reunion, Steve spent the hours before laying around his house listlessly.

 

He was nowhere near excited about seeing the people he’d graduated with, seeing how well they were doing for themselves. While it seemed his growth as a person had been stunted by the horrific things he’d endured. It just didn’t seem fair.

 

But, as his brain reminded him, life _wasn’t_  fair. Truly, words to remember and live by.

 

Time seemed to flow slowly, and Steve watched as the sun crept across the sky. Once he heard his father come in from the office, he knew it was time to start getting ready.

 

While his job required him to keep a respectable length of hair, he made sure it was a length he could play around with. He styled his hair that night into a smart-looking pompadour, eyeing it critically before deeming it acceptable.

 

As a funeral director, he’d bought several suits to wear to work. But when Nancy asked him to come to the reunion, he’d chosen his absolute best. An all-black ensemble of fine quality.

 

Once he was satisfied with his appearance, he took a deep breath and stared at himself in the mirror.

 

“It’s just a reunion,” he tried to reassure himself.

 

But deep down, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that the night would wind up being a disaster.

 

\--

 

Steve stared at the high school. It hadn’t changed one bit in the ten years since he left. It was strangely comforting, the sight of something that was still the same in this godforsaken town.

 

Whispers at his back drew his attention away from the building, and he turned to look at the couple passing by him.

 

Carol’s eyes were wide as she took in his appearance, while Tommy looked jealous at her reaction.

 

“You look entirely too comfortable in that suit, my man,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, and Steve laughed.

 

“Believe me, I’m not. If I had a choice, I’d ditch this place in a heartbeat,” he admitted, and Tommy nodded approvingly.

 

“Yup,” he agreed, and the trio trailed off into awkward silence before Steve gestured towards the door.

 

“The sooner we get this over with, the quicker we can all go home, huh?” he heard Tommy and Carol murmuring behind him as he headed for the entrance.

 

Once inside, he signed in at the desk they had set up and grabbed his name tag, ignoring the girl who clearly had a crush on him at first sight.

 

He made his way into the gym, beelining for the drink table as soon as he spotted it. He took a cup of punch, disappointed when he sipped from it and realized it was alcohol-free. Steve frowned, brandishing the cup at the person behind the table.

 

“Where the hell are the _real_  drinks?” he demanded, and the girl shrugged.

 

“Wasn’t enough money in the budget for alcohol. Sorry,” Steve huffed at the answer, walking away when it became clear the girl was serious.

 

He combed the crowd with his eyes until he finally caught sight of Nancy and Jonathan, and he stopped.

 

Nancy looked beautiful in the blue cotton dress she was wearing. Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, lightly curled and styled. She looked at Jonathan, her eyes shining with affection. She leaned up and quickly pecked his cheek, laughing at the flush creeping its way up his neck.

 

The sight eased something in Steve’s chest, like a knot unraveling. It hurt, but it was a good pain.

 

Nancy finally noticed Steve, and waved him over enthusiastically. He pushed through the crowd, faltering a bit when his ears caught on a snippet of conversation.

 

“So _Steve_ _Harrington_ , huh? It’s unfair that he’s still so hot. I honestly can’t believe Nancy chose Jonathan over him,” Steve swallowed, cheeks burning. He was fighting down his embarrassment when he came to stand next to Nancy and Jonathan.

 

“What’s with the red face?” Nancy asked and Steve grasped the back of his neck.

 

“Just.. well, apparently I’m not as much of a nobody as I thought I’d be here,” he hedged, and Jonathan raised his eyebrow.

 

“You overheard those girls on your way over here, huh?” Steve shrugged.

 

“I just wasn’t expecting it, is all,” he replied. Nancy and Jonathan both rolled their eyes.

 

“Haven’t you grown up? Being all humble about your good looks. I remember you being much more serious about your appearance,” Nancy teased and Jonathan nodded.

 

“Yeah, whatever happened to the guy who put _Farah Fawcett hairspray_  in his hair?” he spoke up, and Steve groaned.

 

“I swear, I haven’t touched that stuff in years. Why are you guys reminding me of that embarrassment again?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, looking over just in time to catch sight of Billy entering the gym.

 

Dread settled into Steve’s bones. He hadn’t thought Billy would show up for the reunion, after what happened that night in his room. Gut instinct told him that whatever reason Billy was here, it wasn’t good.

 

Steve felt something like protectiveness rise up in his chest. He excused himself from the conversation and beelined straight for Billy, heading off whatever disaster was about to happen.

 

“Harrington! There ya are,” Billy slurred, and Steve’s heart sank like a stone.

 

Of _course_  Billy would be drunk.

 

“Come on. Why don’t we take this outside?” Steve gripped Billy’s arm firmly, half-dragging the other man out behind the gym.

 

“Sso! You got something goin' on with  _Nancy Byers_ , huh?” Billy laughed, and Steve frowned, crossing his arms.

 

“No, I don’t. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, Hargrove,” he rebutted. Billy clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

 

“I fuckin’ _saw_  you kiss her the other day,” Billy hissed, shoving a finger in Steve’s chest. “I knew you still had a thing for that dumb bitch.”

 

Steve grasped Billy by the lapels of his shirt, nearly picking him up off the ground. He slammed Billy up against the wall of the gym, snarling when Billy laughed.

 

“So! King Steve’s got some fire left in him after all,” he leaned his head back on the wall “And here I thought it was gone completely.” Steve let go of Billy, sighing.

 

“Okay, maybe I had feelings for Nancy. But that’s the key word, asshole. _Had_. As in, past tense. What you _thought_   you saw, was nothing more than a friendly gesture. After I came back, she saw that I wasn't the same. So she asked what had happened to me. And you know something, Billy.. She didn’t treat me any differently after learning that I used to turn tricks,” Steve laughed when Billy floundered like a fish. “Yeah. I thought that might shut you up.”

 

“W-what the _fuck_ , Harrington?” Billy took several steps away from Steve. “I thought you said you weren’t a faggot.” Steve clenched his fist.

 

“I’m not! Look, it wasn’t like I had a fucking _choice_  in the matter, Billy. I was _kidnapped_. They drugged me out of my goddamn mind, got me addicted to all kinds of shit,” Steve shook his head, sighing. “Why the hell am I even bothering to explain myself. Anyway, see you Hargrove.” He didn’t stick around to hear Billy’s reply before he opened the door to the gym and escaped inside.

 

\--

 

The rest of the evening went quietly for the most part. Billy never came back to the reunion, which everybody gossiped about. Steve learned to ignore the sideways glances people sent him, more convinced than ever that he needed to get the hell out of there.

 

They gave Steve the title for ‘best-dressed’, along with the former class president. Steve, for his part, suffered through everyone’s nostalgic speeches. The tearful goodbyes. By the time it was over, Steve was itching to go. His hand was in his pocket, playing with his car keys. Just waiting for the perfect excuse to come along so that he could go home, pack up his stuff, and leave Hawkins firmly in his rear view.

 

As it turned out, Nancy was the one who suggested they all go for drinks. Steve declined, saying that he was about to head home. He felt guilty for lying about being tired, but the relief he felt once he slid behind the wheel was undeniable.

 

He pulled into his driveway, frowning at the unfamiliar car next to his father’s.

 

He opened his front door, immediately subject to the loud moans and grunts of his father and (Steve assumed) a random woman. Too used to it to care by that point, he just went upstairs to his old bedroom.

 

He was in the middle of packing his bag when a knock on his bedroom door jolted him out of his reverie.  

 

“Come in,” he offered, turning back to pack the rest of his belongings.

 

“Leaving so soon?” Steve whirled at the sound of his mother’s voice. His eyebrows shot up as he heard the continuous moans pouring out of his father’s room. “Ah, I see you’ve also been subjected to the yowling cats in the back bedroom.”

 

Steve nodded, continuing to shove clothes in the bag he’d brought.

 

“Why don’t you seem bothered by this?” he asked lowly, cringing at the sound of his father and the woman in his bed both yelling how good it was. Steve’s mother shrugged.

 

“I have my affairs out on the road. Your father and I agreed to keep our marriage intact, but we each have our preferences. Still…,” she wrinkled her nose. “I can’t _believe_  he had the nerve to bring her in while I’m here.”

 

Steve grabbed the remaining supplies he’d brought with him, shoving those into the top of the bag. Once he was at home in his own apartment, he would put everything right. But for now, he felt the urge to leave Hawkins strongly in his bones.

 

“I gotta go, mom,” he smiled sadly at her. “This will be my last visit here, no offense. Once I’m in Chicago, that’s it.” He scribbled his address and phone number on a sheet of notebook paper and handed it to her. “If you ever wanna come see me.. Just let me know.”

 

“I love you, Steve,” his mother had tears shimmering in her eyes. Steve hugged her hard, hoping the embrace let her know how much he loved her in return. “No matter who or what you are.. You’ll always be my son.”

 

He grabbed his bag, heading downstairs. On his way outside, he shot a bird at his father, newly emerged from the bedroom in a robe. The trashy woman he’d fucked was right behind him, carrying a pair of high heels and a bra.  

 

He closed the door on his father’s angry tirade, laughing heartily. Drunk on the taste of freedom and sweet relief of a difficult task accomplished.

 

\--

 

Steve was almost to the town border when he saw flashing blue and red lights behind him.

 

He'd been _so fucking close_  to escaping scott-free. But of course, Hawkins wasn't about to let him go without a fight.

 

He sighed when Hopper knocked on his window with a friendly, easygoing smile.

 

“Was there something I was doing wrong, officer?” He asked politely, and Hopper snorted.

 

“Cut the bullshit, Steve. We both know this isn't a routine traffic stop,” Steve sat back with a sigh.

 

“So why _did_  you stop me, then? Because if you're here to try to guilt me into staying, that's--”

 

“I saw the police reports, Steve. _I know_ ,” Hopper cut in, and Steve's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

 

“And?” He ground out. Hopper clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder, causing an involuntary flinch.

 

“I'm sorry you had to go through something like that. Back when I worked in New York, I saw cases like yours all the time. I just hope you know how lucky you are. Most aren't able to escape,” Steve's lips curled, and he thought of the girl he'd shared a room with. Cherry, is what they called her. For her hair, a vibrant red.

 

He remembered waking up next to her cold body, a needle still stuck in her arm.

 

“Believe me, Hopper. I know,” he replied lowly, and Hopper nodded.

 

“Well, I guess that's that. Don't suppose we'll be seeing you around town again,” when Steve didn't say anything, Hopper sighed. “Thought as much. Take care of yourself, kid.”

 

Hopper got back in his truck, and sped away.

 

Steve relaxed in his seat, pausing for a few minutes to collect himself.

 

He took a deep breath in, and let it out slowly. He thought he'd put the trauma behind him, but talking with Nancy and Hopper… Steve took a flask from his glovebox and drank deeply.

 

He wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t think he needed help. He decided it was probably a good idea to call up his sponsor once he was back in Chicago, explain what had happened. Get back to regular meetings at the community center.

 

Thinking about his life in Chicago calmed him down, and he reached to turn the key in the ignition.

 

“Hey Harrington!”

 

Steve closed his eyes. It _definitely_  seemed like Hawkins was trying to sink its claws back into him, if Billy Hargrove was here.

 

“So Hopper told me that you’re leaving for good this time,” Billy leaned down, invading Steve’s personal space. Steve nodded, setting his forehead against the steering wheel. His mind kept replaying the wide-eyed fear in Billy’s eyes after he admitted his past.

 

“I don’t know why it matters to you, because I’m pretty sure we said everything we were going to say to each other. But yeah, I’m leaving. And I’m not coming back,” he replied with finality. Billy was silent after Steve’s answer, and Steve looked up when he didn’t hear anything from the other man.

 

Billy looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself, nervous and fidgety. But when Steve met his gaze, there was determination in Billy’s eyes.

 

“Look, I’m not great at talking about this kind of stuff, but.. I like you. Hell, I’ve liked you since high school, Steve,” he admitted.

 

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise.  

 

“I.. thought you weren’t gay,” he responded dumbly. Billy sighed and leaned against the hood of his Camaro.

 

“Maybe I am. But I’m not gonna pretend it doesn’t scare the shit outta me to like another guy,” he reached for his cigarettes, lighting one in an obvious attempt to keep calm. “Anyway, I just wanted a chance to tell you before you left Hawkins. I know it wasn’t some grand declaration of love, but.. We both know that ain’t never been my style.”

 

Steve was stunned at the bombshell Billy had just dropped. Suddenly, it made sense why Billy had acted the way he had at the reunion.

 

“You gonna say something, Harrington? I’m sitting on pins and needles over here,” Billy’s comment jolted Steve out of his stupor and he cleared his throat.

 

“I, uh.. I like you too,” Billy’s head shot up from looking at the ground, and Steve continued “I never understood why you were so good at pushing all my buttons, but after that night in my bedroom.. It just clicked. We have a connection, Billy, and you can’t say that you don’t feel it too.”

 

Billy ran a hand through his hair, pacing between his car and Steve’s.

 

“So what now?” he asked, whirling to Steve like he had all the answers.

 

“I don’t know, Billy. I can’t stay in Hawkins, this place causes my demons to come to life in the worst way,” Steve confessed.

 

“Well.. I could come visit Chicago,” Billy offered, and Steve smiled.

 

“I’d like that,” he chuckled. “I’ll show you a _real_  good time.” Billy smirked, and headed towards Steve with a gleam in his eye.

 

“Or maybe..,” he leaned down and pressed his lips to Steve’s in a rush “I’ll be the one showing you.”

 

He walked back to his Camaro, pausing before he got inside. “See you around, Harrington.”

 

Steve watched Billy leave before turning the key in his own car.

 

“See you around, Hargrove.”


End file.
